


Setherenan

by briarandbramble



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Archaeology, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Lore, Elvhen Language, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:21:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briarandbramble/pseuds/briarandbramble
Summary: The Inquisition are forced to take a break in the Emerald Graves. Inquisitor Lavellan gets some time to herself but is interrupted. NSFW chapters skippable. Very elfy fluff.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 3 is NSFW but skippable with no change to the overall story.

They had been on an expedition in the Emerald Graves when, unbeknownst to them and completely unexpectedly, they came across the nest of what they later found out to be a Greater Mistral. Unfortunately for the entourage, The Iron Bull and Sera, who had been regaling each other of exaggerated tales of their dragon hunting exploits throughout the trip, both leaped to action to protect the rest of the group. Emboldened by their own boasts of past glory, they managed to fend off the beast for the time being, and both managed to catch some nasty frostbite in the process. Although Bull was used to such things having fought many Tevinter mages in his time, seeing Sera hiding her pain out of pride goaded him into feigning he was hurt worse than he was, so that the entourage would be convinced to camp out a few days to let 'him' recover.

Inquisitor Lavellan, although worried for her companions, and perhaps a little impressed, was nonetheless delighted for the interlude in one of her favorite places in Ferelden. Jumping at the chance to get lost among the tall trees without anyone for miles around, after seeing that her friends were being taken care of she immediately disappeared off into the thicket. Delighting in the forest she ran, leaping with ease over gnarled roots. She drank in the sensations, the familiar crunching of the leaf litter under her feet and the feeling of sporadic warmth on her face among the cool of the dappled shade from the canopies. This was her natural habitat, and after a long and tiresome time as the Inquisitor, she finally felt as though she could just be herself again. She smiled then, remembering her childhood, and her exasperated but loving family. Her mother would send countless cousins and older siblings into the woods to find her, and she would see them wandering aimlessly as she giggled to herself from her hiding spots. She knew Leliana’s crows kept a watchful eye on her, and unlike her cousins they could pick her out with ease from their flight above the canopies. She knew that she could never truly hide from prying eyes again, but she could certainly give them a run for their money.

After a while she slowed to an amble. She stopped to examine any large stones she came across, hoping to find relics of her people, hoping to see whether she walked in their ancient footsteps. She took note of the plants she saw along the way as she walked and recited to herself the properties that her grandmother had taught her. It was a very old habit drilled into her from a young age, yet a habit that could mean life or death for a hermetic wandering clan. She knew the Inquisition had brought ample supplies, but could not help herself from picking a few large edible mushrooms she recognised that she utterly hated as a child but had grown to love as an adult. Eventually she came across a clearing with a huge, branching tree in its center. She would never tell anyone, as she thought it a little silly, but she called every big tree like this that she found a vhenadahl, a personal habit held over from a misguided expedition she took as a youth to find the vhenadahl of Arlathan after taking the Keeper’s stories too much to heart one day. She chuckled at the memory and placed her hand on the trunk, feeling the rough bark against her palm and imagining she could sense the tree pulling from the earth itself to reach higher and higher to the bright open sky.

She stopped, and listened as intently as she could. Hearing nothing but the normal sounds of a forest, she hoisted herself up to the first big branch of the tree and took out a small tin whistle from her satchel. She carried it everywhere, and although she was always too shy to play along with her clan on the nights they would rally and play together, she would often retreat into the woods where none could hear her and play to her heart’s content. This was the first time in a long time she had the chance to do so once more, and didn’t know when she would get a chance again. If ever, she thought grimly. She laid back against the trunk of her tree and played all her old favorites, some every single note of which were precious and engraved in her memory, and some that were distant memories that came back to her as she played.

“I remember hearing an old beggar play that song on one of my journeys into the Fade. That tune is an old one, I am surprised it is still remembered among the Dalish.” Lavellan froze in surprise and embarrassment. She had been so sure she was alone.

“How long have you been there?"

“I’ve been here all day, vhen’an. You play beautifully, by the way.” She shuffled in embarrassment and put away her whistle.

“I am a little out of practice. You should hear it as my Maela played it. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there. I hope I didn’t bother you.”

She heard the soft thud of a book closing and Solas appeared from the other side of the tree, where he had apparently been sitting the whole time. She wondered to herself how he could be so quiet as to avoid being heard by her. She was, after all, raised among skilled and cautious trackers. He turned his face up towards her, his usual stern look softening as he looked into her face.

“You could never bother me, vhen’an. On the contrary, it was a delight to hear you play so joyfully. I was quite unaware you played at all.”

She adjusted her satchel and slid from her branch. Solas reached out his arms to catch her, to her pleasant surprise. He held her there for a moment, and let go. He turned away and fidgeted with his book.

“My grandfather used to sing that song to us. He would tell us it was from the time of the Long Walk.”

“No, it is much older than that.” Reading the look on her face and sensing what she was about to say, he continued “The words may differ throughout the years with the changing times, yet the tune always seems to endure the ages, intact. It is an interesting phenomenon.” He began walking. He glanced back at her, an invitation, and held out his hand.

“Come. I would like to show you something.”

She took his hand in hers, and they walked together. She looked up at the elf. He had a look on his face she hadn’t seen before. He was looking out into the distance, admiring the trees and soaking in the quiet solitude of the forest, his steely blue-grey eyes now soft, his face calm and almost serene. She grinned at his expression, unable to help herself. He looked so different from the usual sombre expression in his study at Skyhold, brow furrowed as he was lost in thought, even as she tried to get his attention. He looked back at her and away again, a smile tugging at his mouth, but said nothing.

Suddenly, they were walking downhill. The trees around them became thicker and taller, and the shade became heavier as the massive canopies blocked out more and more sunlight. As it became darker around them, Lavellan felt as though they were wading through the darkness, as though the air had become thicker around them. The path still lit only slightly by the dull green glow of the leaves above, she felt the air become thinner once more, then thinner still. It began to prickle against her skin. She looked at Solas with slight concern. She recognized the familiar feeling as though the cool dry air was sticking to her body. The Veil was thin here, but it felt different somehow.

“Should we be here? This Setheneran feels... unusual.”

“Ir ghi’la ma.” _I guide you._ “No harm will come to you. We are only visitors here.”


	2. Chapter 2

The thought struck her that she hadn’t seen Solas leave the party before today, and wondered when he had the time to discover this place. He probably saw it in his journeys through the Fade, she thought, brushing it off. He always did seem to know where he was going. He stopped suddenly, and gently squeezed her hand. She froze, listening intently for whatever it was he was indicating. Something large shuffled quietly to their left, and then was gone. They began to walk once more.

Eventually they reached some small, ragged trees, covered in flowers. Although Lavellan knew that it was only noon, the forest was so darkened and the canopies so thick and high that it seemed like it was dusk. She noticed that the flowers of the trees were no flowers at all as they got closer, but that around the branches were tied little pieces of cloth. Some were cotton, others yarn, and others were a fine and shining cloth she didn’t recognise. She knew better than to touch them though they looked as soft as still water, as she was familiar with this practice still upheld by the Dalish. She wondered whether she had the time to add one of her own. Solas, noticing that she had slowed, gave her a meaningful look, and gently pulled her away further through the copse.

She let go of his hand and stopped in her tracks. Though partially buried by litter, and covered with moss and lichen, she saw what he had brought her to see. She had seen court tombs before when she explored the wilds as a child, but she had never seen any remotely this large or intact. The stones were old, older than she could fathom, yet still covered in intricate carvings as though they had been carved only years ago. She wondered if the proximity to the Fade kept them from fading with time. Before her stood a line of standing stones, obstructing the view into the tomb, but through the entrance marked by a large horizontal stone far above their heads she could see a hallway. Although there was no roof to speak of, the light was too dim to see beyond it. Solas was already walking in. She startled at this and told him to stop.

“Can we just go in like that, vhen’an?! Isn’t it disrespectful?”

He turned to face her. “It is perfectly alright. Unless you were considering defiling it? In which case perhaps you should wait out here. I will describe it to you on my return.” She bristled, then seeing his grin began to laugh. He was teasing her, daring her.

“Okay then, ma ghilana.” _Guide me_ , she teased back. “After you.”

They wandered together in quiet reverence throughout the court tomb. They trod carefully over the old stone floor, smooth and slick from ancient footsteps. The hallway led into another, and into a large chamber containing a shallow well in its center. Solas lit a veilfire torch, and slowly passed it along the walls of the tomb, revealing complex carvings. Silently they admired them, occasionally running their fingers gently along the carvings as they twisted and converged. They wandered through each and every chamber branching off from the central room, but at the far end stood for a while at the entrance to the largest of them. It contained no carvings at all and nothing but a large greystone slab in the middle of the floor. Wordlessly, and for a reason unknown to Lavellan but felt deep down, they both thought better of entering this one. They turned to leave, feeling as though they were about to overstay their welcome.

By the time they left the woods, it was late afternoon, although Lavellan had been sure it was already dusk. Once the warmth of the forest returned and she no longer felt the static on her skin, she asked him if they could stop for a while by some vernal pools. She wasn’t tired, but wanted to sit with him for a while, and mull over what they had experienced together while it was still fresh in her mind. She unsheathed the mushrooms she had gathered this morning from her satchel, and offered one to Solas, who politely declined. After a while of sitting by his side munching mushrooms and watching the life of the forest carry on around them, she finally broke the comfortable silence.

“I want to thank you. I can’t begin to tell you how much what you showed me today means to me. I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing, ‘ma vhen’an.”

She winced at his reaction. Stoic as ever. When she turned to look at him, she saw that he had been watching her carefully, and he looked away at her glance. 

“Solas, you-“ She swivelled to face him. He raised both his eyebrows at the sudden serious look upon her face. She took his hand in both of hers, and held it in her lap.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying, Solas, but it seems to me like there is some sadness in you that’s ever present, even now as we sit here together. I don’t mean to pry or to be presumptuous. I just wish for you that you could have some momentary reprieve from whatever it is that troubles your heart so much. I wish that because I care for you. That’s all I wanted to say.”

She let go, yet he held onto her hand, holding it tighter. He looked into her eyes.

“I see. I will say this, then. My troubles are not yours, vhen’an. I mean this in the kindest way. I am glad you care for me, as I care for you, but there is no need to worry yourself so.” He smiled brightly. She frowned, and began to protest when he placed his against her cheek and leaned in to kiss her softly. She felt herself melt in his embrace, and quickly pulled herself back again.  
“No, I am afraid it is already too late. I do care for you, and my worry for you cannot be undone so easily. It is not something fleeting that can be blown out like a candle, Solas. Ara vhen’an, tel’abelas.” You are my heart, and I am not sorry for it.

He looked at her, speechless for a moment, then grinned at her. “Soudinathe!” _Stubborn!_ “I apologise, Inquisitor. You are right.”

Feeling guilty for spoiling the day they had spent together, and for being so stubborn, she looked down at her feet. She was about to apologise, when he reached out a hand to turn her face to his. He began to speak, and instead shook his head, pulling her close to kiss her again. This time, she allowed herself to fall into the embrace. The whole world melted away, all there was was him, and she felt like she was surrounded by him, drowning in his essence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.

She threw her arms around his neck, and he pulled away to look into her face, bashful and blushing, but heavy-lidded and inviting. His icy eyes flashed, and suddenly he embraced her again more forcefully and desperately than before, grasping her tightly around her waist. She hadn’t expected this, and neither had he. The Solas she knew was gentle, reserved even. Now, he seemed almost urgent, as though he couldn’t get her close enough to him. He kissed her deeply, and she began to feel it too, holding his shoulders and desperately pulling him to her. Their fingers grasped at each others’ bodies, wandering, exploring.

He stopped, suddenly, his face inches from hers, his eyes dark, his breath deep.

“Vir-”  
She placed her fingers against his soft lips. “Din dirthenas.” _Say nothing._

She grabbed him close and kissed him again deeply, her hand against the back of his neck, and he kissed her too, holding himself back no longer. They slid down into the cool grass together, and she knew then what had given him pause before. As she pulled him closer to her, she felt him harden against her. She slid her hand across him, exploring him, and he breathed deeply at the sensation, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She leaned in to whisper to him. Caught up in the moment, he couldn’t stop herself from using a Dalish idiom, something she would normally be self-conscious using around her love.

“Lasa ar’an alas’nira aron fen’en, ‘ma vhen’an.”  
_Let us dance as the wolves do, my heart_

To her complete delight, he laughed loud and jovially at her turn of phrase. Without hesitation, he began to undress her, peppering her face, neck, chest with tiny kisses. Impatient and longing, she began to undress him before he could her, being mindful of his wolf jaw talisman which now fell to rest between her breasts. Both naked under the shade of the oak tree, her shoulders cradled under his arm, her bare thighs against his as her legs loosely wrapped around his hips, he paused and brushed a stray hair from her face. His eyes were soft and gentle as she had never seen before. Perhaps it is the forest putting us at ease, she thought. She smiled and traced her thumb along the fine, soft stubble of his jawline, letting it rest against his chin. She pulled his face towards her and kissed him once more, and using his legs pulled his hips into hers. He resisted. 

“Please let me try something first. It is something I have been wanting to do.” 

Curious, she complied, and allowed him to pull away from her. He slowly moved down her body, between her breasts and following the gentle curves of her stomach, kissing and gently nipping her skin between his teeth. She gasped softly as she realised what it was he hungered for, coaxing a smirk from Solas’ lips that she could not see. As her soft, goose-pimpled skin became darker and slick, he paused, admiring the most intimate part of his vhen’an’s body. He gave her a brief playful look, then, parting her with his soft finger, pressed his wet mouth to her. She let out a small moan and twisted against the sensation, but Solas brought his hands to her hips to steady her and pull her in closer to him. His nimble tongue danced in sweet circles as he tasted her, and as soon as he felt her begin to throb against his teeth, he slowly placed a slender finger inside of her, not anticipating her shudder, more sensitive to his touch than either of them expected. She giggled at her involuntary movement.

“Ha’mi’in, vhen’an.” _Relax, my love._ He placed a hand firmly below her navel, and kissed her shaking thigh before diving once more into the heady, intoxicating scent of her. Once more he slid his fingers into her, more purposefully than before, his cheeks flushing with desire as he felt her drip down his hand and into the cool earth below them both. He wrote poetry with his tongue and she sang along to his rhythm, her hands snaking through the long grass, grasping. Speeding up now, she softly whined and whimpered as he curved his fingers and reached deep inside of her, searching for the note he so craved, spinning his tongue in soft shapes around her clit. She reached her crescendo, a wave of shuddering bliss spreading throughout her limbs and she writhed in Solas’ arms, tensing and tightening around his fingers inside of her. 

He smirked at her as she began to relax once more. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Wh-?” Through the haze of her climax, she looked at him for a moment, confused. She began to laugh, freely and openly laugh, her eyes misting and her face blushing in the dappled sunlight. He began to laugh too, amused and enamoured by her uninhibited display of joy. He laughed, and it felt like he exercised a muscle that had not been used in a long time. He enjoyed the sensation so much so that he was completely unprepared when she pounced on him. Straddling him, still giggling, she threw her arms around him, kissing his neck, shivering slightly as he ran his fingers into her hair and down her bare back, deftly pulling it loose from their braids. Their faces bright and hearts bursting with joy and love, she reached down and gently guided him into her.

Under the protective shade of the huge oak tree, they saw each other laid bare then. In synchronised motions, they entwined their bodies together into one singular motion, vulnerable but contented and unabashed. She rocked back and forth against his hips, occasionally leaning in to kiss his face or gently nip the sensitive skin of his neck with her teeth. He slid himself deep inside of her, him revelling in her wet heat, her savouring the feeling of him hard and hot inside of her, reaching sweet spots that made her body sing like never before. With his arm braced against her waist, he reached down and stimulated her sensitive clit with his thumb, causing her to cry out and clench tighter around him. She buried her head in his shoulder, overcome, and moaned low into his neck as he kissed her ear and reached his other hand into her long, curly hair, now wild and sticking to the beads of sweat along her curved back. She snaked her trembling arms under his. Bracing her hands against the ball of his shoulders, grasping her fingernails into his skin, she began to slam her hips faster and harder against his, the sudden motion rocking him backwards against the bark of the tree. Sensing her impending orgasm, he grasped her hips and pulled himself up with each motion, stroking the deepest, sweetest spot inside of her. Her entire body gripped tighter and compulsed against his as she held him to her. She made a strangled noise as she came, overcome and unable to cry out. Feeling her wet and quivering around his cock, he no longer felt himself in control, and she felt him fill her, hot and wet and dripping. She was a storm mage, and he was certain that the crackling electricity he felt across his skin in that moment was no mere chance.

They untangled themselves, decorating one another in small and chaste kisses, her grinning to herself and him grinning at her. They lay together under the shade for a long time, wrapped comfortably in each others’ arms, wordlessly enjoying the slowly dissipating haze of pleasure and listening to one another’s rapid heartbeats. Finally, she broke the silence once more.

“My heart, as much as I love you and want this moment to last, I wondered if you could help me find some herbs. There’s a tea I need to make if I’m to avoid… ”

“I would not worry about that. It is not possible.” He kissed her head.

“Oh, you mean you…” she trailed off. Suddenly her head swam with visions of their future together that she did not know she entertained. This may change things, things I did not even realise I might want, she thought.

“Vhen’an, I mean it is not possible here, where we are.”

She nodded. She stopped nodding. _Where are we?_


	4. Chapter 4

She paused. It dawned on her. Of course they were in the Fade. _Why do I always fall for this?_ She looked at him, startled. “Oh Solas, you didn’t!”

As she awoke from the dream, the sound of his roguish laughter at her sudden surprise still ringing in her ears, she found it was already evening, and Solas was nowhere to be found. He had bundled her under a heavy cotton blanket, which she shook out. He could have put away the mushrooms, she thought wryly, picking pieces of squished macrofungus from her tunic. She wrapped and belted the blanket to her back, and set off back to the camp, annoyed with herself that she had yet again failed to notice that she and Solas were in the Fade, yet begrudgingly amused at the mischievousness of it all. She knew that he did it on purpose, he seemed to get some sort of kick out of it. Almost too much, she thought to herself, shaking her head. He was as much an enigma to her as anyone, though she suspected that she had seen more of his true self than anyone else in the Inquisition.

She was deep in thought, cautiously tramping over mushy fallen logs and kicking the leaf litter as she walked. She had heard those in the Inquisition comment on Solas’ unyielding politeness, and others on his stifling seriousness in all matters. What a clever disguise a stick up one’s ass was, she thought. She considered asking the other Dalish she had seen around back at Skyhold what they thought of him. Had they had overheard him swearing profusely in his odd Elvhen accent that she had never heard the like of before? Had they noticed his subtle yet playful barbs he scattered across every conversation as plentifully but strategically as Varric’s caltrops to any who spoke to him? 

“And for no good reason other than for his own entertainment!” she thought aloud. Or had he noticed that she saw? Was there any small part of him that did it for her benefit? She put the thought aside, exasperated. There was no point in trying to even hazard a guess at that elf’s intentions. Whether he in fact had any at all, or whether he simply made it up as he went along. That eccentric apostate mage who seemed to know the answer to every problem they had ever faced. That strange, wondrous, and exhausting man who challenged and exhilarated her so.

As soon as she realised that she had been gushing and fawning over him like a young girl she began berating herself, ruminating as to the exact moment she became so nauseatingly saccharine. At the precise moment she realised he had managed to use that to his advantage to give her prodding and subtle questioning the slip yet again back at the vernal pool glade, she smelled the warm, familiar smell of the campfire stew they had subsisted on for the past few weeks. She looked up into the warm glow of the camp. A familiar slender frame was exaggeratedly stomping in her direction, fists balled and arms swinging.

“And just where have you been, missus? We’d all thought you went off with His Royal Elfiness but he came back ages ago, says he went to go talk to a tree or whatever. Well?”

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Sera-”

“Never said I wasn’t feeling bad to start with. Just because I didn't whine and fuss about like some other people. But go on, explain yourself!” she crossed her arms and tapped her foot, not even remotely hiding the fact that her mock anger was, indeed, mocking. “You nearly missed dinner and everything. We made your favorite and all, Same Bloody Stew We’ve Been Eating For A Year!” she broke her jest, and laughed at her own joke. Lavellan laughed too. She was glad her friend was around to keep her grounded when she needed it.

“I found some huge mushrooms actually, I thought we could pop them in, but I, uh… I fell asleep and squashed them. No survivors, I’m afraid.”

“Well good, I bloody hate mushrooms.” Sera linked the Inquisitor’s arm with hers, and marched her to the makeshift firepit.

“Ah! She returns. Nice to have you back, boss. I just opened some Maraas-Lok, figure the heat would help the old frostbite.” He pointed to his leg. It looked perfectly fine. “You want some? I brought plenty to go round. In case of emergency, you know how it is.”

“I’ll take it if she doesn’t want it! I don’t care if it’s completely disgusting my horny friend, tonight we drink! To dragon slaying! Or whatever!”

“Disgusting, is that it? And I guess you…”

His voice trailed off as Lavellen left them to argue the intricacies of hard liquor, intending to give an earful to Solas for abandoning her in the woods. He sat cross-legged outside his tent, his back to the fire to better illuminate the pages of his book. She had just opened her mouth to speak, when-

“Inquisitor. You made it back in one piece, I see.” He stood up and turned to face her, his eyes dancing in the firelight. Her annoyance immediately dissipated. She would just have to accept that she was nauseatingly saccharine and completely enchanted by this infuriating man, and that’s just how it was now.

“No thanks to you!” she laughed up at him. “I brought you back your blanket. My mushrooms didn’t fare as well, so I guess we’re just having our regular stew this evening.”

“I did not want to trouble you, but I have always hated those particular mushrooms. Perhaps it is for the best.” He raised his hand and patted her shoulder consolingly. She felt patronised. He was teasing her, once again.

“Oh I’m sure it is, I’m sure it is.” She threw him a withering look, which lost its sting as her mouth failed not to twist into a wry smile. “You know, despite it all I really do think there is some part of you that does it for my benefit, too. I believe you’re trying to impress me, in your own way.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, both flirty and facetiously.

Nonplussed, he turned to lift his book from the ground. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Inquisitor. Would you like some stew?”

She threw her hands up. _Infuriating._ “I suppose so.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. He grinned. 

**Author's Note:**

> I played fast and loose in this fic with both DA lore and Celtic mythology/folklore/archaeology. I noticed some inspirations in actual DA Dalish lore and customs from irl Celtic mythology, so I went with it. Apologies to any sticklers for in-game lore or irl paleolithic archaeology.


End file.
